


One Night in the Bookshop

by tomatopudding



Series: With a Thousand Sweet Kisses (I'll Cover You) [9]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Short & Sweet, The bookshop, who the heck knows when this takes place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 08:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22189444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomatopudding/pseuds/tomatopudding
Summary: Prompt: A kiss that lasts so long, they are sharing each other’s breaths.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: With a Thousand Sweet Kisses (I'll Cover You) [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1420288
Comments: 2
Kudos: 68





	One Night in the Bookshop

**Author's Note:**

> Find the the kisses prompt list here.

They’re more than a little bit drunk, which is saying something considering their ethereal and occult constitutions, enough so that Aziraphale had moved from his usual armchair to the couch beside Crowley so that they could more easily share a bottle without the need for pesky things like cups. It also allowed Crowley in indulge in watching Aziraphale’s minute facial expressions at ridiculously close range. He didn’t even know what the angel was drunkenly babbling about (something to do with brioche, and who knew that there was so much to say on the subject?), but the alcohol had caused a rosy flush to overtake him and it made his eyes sparkle in that certain way that would have made Crowley weak at the knees if he hadn’t been sitting already. 

“R’you even lisssening?” Azirpahale complained, his normally erudite tones devolving into a sort of drawl.

“No.” Crowley’s own drunkenness was making him honest. 

Aziraphale pouted, adorably and with his lower lip sticking out in an exaggerated fashion. Crowley wanted to kiss the pout off his face.

“So do it.”

Crowley realized that he must have said that last part aloud. Honesty, indeed. 

“S’not fair,” Crowley told him, “of you to tempt me when I’m in this state. I just might succumb if you’re not careful.”

Aziraphale leaned closer, a smile on his face that could only be described as  _ devilish _ , “So why don’t you, as they say, put your money where your mouth is.”

Crowley blinked one long, slow blink then he smirked, “Don’t mind if I do.”

He only meant it to be a short kiss, a simple peck to call Aziraphale’s bluff. Instead Crowley found himself held in place by a hand on the nape of his neck, a gentle pressure that encouraged rather than forced. Crowley was, of course, more than happy to comply, opening to the gentle probing of Aziraphale’s tongue and letting out a satisfied sigh as he tasted the alcohol they shared and the chocolate truffles the angel had indulged in earlier that evening. Aziraphale made a pleased noise and tilted his head so that their mouths slotted together even more perfect, his fingers tangling in Crowley’s hair. They kissed and kissed, more and more heatedly, and Crowley didn’t know how it happened but Aziraphale was straddling him, perched on Crowley’s thighs, and wasn’t that a glorious thing. Crowley gripped tightly at the back of Aziraphale’s waistcoat (the jacket had been lost at some point long before this one) and pulled him close.

While they didn’t actually need to breathe, millenia around humans had made it a habit and eventually the kiss broke, foreheads pressed together, panting heavily into each other’s mouths and Crowley never wanted this moment to end. Aziraphale seemed to have the same idea, tipping his face so that their noses brushed, their lips so close to touching but not quite making contact. It was almost more intimate than the kiss itself, occupying almost the same space with how closely they were tangled. Neither wanted the moment to end, and so it didn’t. 

  
  



End file.
